Elphaba of Oz
by TheWickedWitchOfOz
Summary: AU. Melena leaves Frex after Elphaba is born to raise Elphaba on her own. Main pairing will be Elphiyero.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Wicked (I'd know if I did )

**Prologue: Kerrin's Story**

It all started, if such things can be said to have a definite beginning, with a young man of Gillikin – one Kerrin Hadar – defying his father's wish for him to make a good marriage within the minor nobility of the North to enter the service of the Unnamed God as a Priest. With prompting from his wife Kerrin's father gave in and gave his blessing with the unspoken thought that Kerrin could always be married after his ordination.

Believing that marrying, and indeed living, in Gillikin would hinder his purpose the young man sought the advice of his superior and decided to go south to convert the heathen Quadlings – that was the last his family heard of him for a great many years

He went first to Qhoyre, the only place resembling a city in the south, but found that very few Quadlings actually lived there. When he asked of a local Missionary where he might go to find likely converts he was, rather brusquely, told not to waste his time on "those mud grubbing heathens who spend most of their lives with their minds firmly fixed on the clouds"

Dismayed but not discouraged by the older man's cynicism Kerrin Hadar sought an audience with the man presumed by Northern Ozians to be the Ruler of Quadling Country.

Much to his surprise when the audience was granted he found himself conducted into the presence of a Quadling lady. The conversation made such an impression upon him that he later recorded it in his personal journal.

Excerpt from the journal of Kerrin Hadar, dated 18th year of the Reign of Ozma the Wise:

_Much to my surprise upon being conducted into my audience with the Ruler of this Southern land I was met with a lady of the Quadlings. _

"_Greetings to you, Madame," said I to her, being unsure on the proprieties of addressing such a personage. _

"_And to you, greetings, Kerrin of Gillikin," she replied in the oddly muddled way of speaking they have. Some find it irksome but it seems to me that if any of us bothered to learn their language, as I intend to do, we would sound just as odd. _

"_To speak to I, you wished?" she continued and I realised I had fallen silent._

"_I beg your pardon, Madame, I did wish to speak to the person in charge but I was led to believe that was Master Herlyn," I replied, taking pride in the fact that I did not stumble too badly over the gentleman's name. _

"_Herlyn is, as you say it, 'husband' to I. To I you wish to speak, to ask if you may do what? Go among my people and tell them that for speaking to those who have passed they are cursed? For not believing in one, Unnamed, Father they are cursed?"_

_It was at this point I began to have strong suspicions as to why my fellow Missionaries regarded the Quadling people as an 'impossible task'_

"_I must protest, Madame, and assure you in the hope that you will believe me. I have no intention of telling your people that their ways are wrong, though I know there are those who believe it to be so."_

"_Your word, only, I have for this. How am I to be knowing if it is kept?"_

_How indeed? I wondered silently to myself, searching through the scanty knowledge of the Quadling people I had acquired, finally I spread my hands in defeat._

"_I can think f no way to prove my sincerity to you, Madame, I am sorry."_

"_Your faith you do not claim to make you infallible?"_

"_No one is infallible, Madame, that is why we have our faith."_

_After I made that statement, entirely genuinely of course, she fell silent and studied me with such intensity that I felt quite nervous – was she about to banish me from her land and if she did where would I go? Perhaps it would have been best to make my own way without drawing her attention to me._

"_To preach to my people, you intend to?" she demanded suddenly. "How? When many of them are not speaking your language and less than them speaking it well?"_

"_I…I thought to find someone who would teach me to speak your language, Madame, if that is possible. I thought perhaps some of the misunderstandings between our peoples on the subject of our beliefs might be due to the barrier of language."_

"_Words do not a language make. To truly be knowing a people, you must know their beliefs. A bargain for you, Kerrin of Gillikin. To one of my people you will be teaching your ways and from that one learning ours, do you agree?"_

That was the last journal entry written by Kerrin Hadar.

After a few moments thought he agreed to the conditions set by the Lady Ruler of Quadling Country and that was how he came to meet Liana Neerasa. Liana was as interested in learning about his beliefs as he was in learning her language, at that point he thought of learning her beliefs as necessary to understanding the people he was trying to convert.

The first thing Liana did was take him away from the city, after explaining that he could not understand what being Quadling meant until he had seen how most of them lived. He soon discovered that they had no method of keeping time smaller than measuring the seasons. Day was day until it became night and then it was day again. The difference between seasons was the amount of rain that fell and slight variations in temperature.

Before he knew it he was in love with that wild humid swampland and the people who lived in it, particularly one person who lived in it – Liana who had shown him that there was more to Quadling beliefs than the self-delusion that northerners, particularly religious officials, dismissed them as and had in turn embraced his beliefs and proven that one person could believe in all of those things without conflict.

They spent the next few years travelling while Kerrin preached, until Liana informed him in no uncertain terms that he had six months in which to decide where they would live until their child was born.

Kerrin's family, and his superiors in the church, would have been horrified to hear that a Quadling woman was expecting his child but they didn't know because the last they heard of him was the response to a query from his superior telling them that Kerrin Hadar had 'gone native' and 'vanished into the backcountry'.

In plenty of time the couple settled down in a small Quadling settlement near the southernmost border of Oz, it was not called a town because it didn't have a name and the inhabitants tended to move every year or so – one of the reasons for the well known unreliability of the postal system in the South.

The baby, properly christened at Kerrin's insistence and ceremonially introduced to her ancestors at Liana's insistence, was named Melena and to Kerrin's surprise the only sign she showed of being half-Quadling were the reddish highlights in her brown hair – her skin was as pale and pretty as any Gillikinese girl could wish for.

Liana remained amused by his surprise for some time to come, she also suggested that he may wish to tell his mother of her grandchild now that he knew she was not...different. Kerrin's reaction to her assumption that he was ashamed to have a Quadling wife (he insisted on using the term despite the informality of their relationship) and daughter was vehement to say the least – after he finished Liana never considered the thought again, not even four years later when their second daughter, as Quadling in looks as her mother, was born.

Time passed, unremarked upon for the most part, Kerrin taught his daughters to speak the language of North as well they spoke that of the South. The girls grew up in the freedom of a Quadling childhood, so much less demanding than what he had been through, and saw most of their homeland by the time Melena was thirteen. Their mother taught them Quadling magic, the gift of growing things that all Quadlings had to some degree, while their father taught them how to read and figure numbers.

Tragedy struck the South in the Seventh Year of the Reign of Ozma the Bilious – a plague swept through the land killing nearly half of the Quadlings. Of Kerrin's family, who all contracted the disease, only three survived. The youngest daughter, Melena's beloved sister, had always been more frail than most and was not strong enough to survive despite the devoted nursing by mother and sister. They did not even have the comfort of speaking to her in spirit for the Sprit Speaker, a person who is not named in the Quadling language because all Quadlings know what he or she is, had been a victim of the plague as well.

Gradually, to the subdued surprise of those who survived, life returned to normal.

Melena, having already learned midwifery and nursing from Liana, decided she wanted to learn more and spent three years studying with healers all over the South before announcing that she had arranged to go to University in Munchkinland to study medicine there.

When Kerrin would have protested, not her ambition but her choice to leave, Liana took him aside and spoke the wisdom of her people:

_Every life is full of choices.  
Every child must leave her home.  
The time to choose for our child has passed. _

So Melena went to the North East, writing often to her parents though it took months for the letters to actually arrive at whichever settlement they were residing in at the time. A year after she left Melena's parents received a letter telling them that she was going to be married – in fact by the time the letter arrived she **was** married – to Frex Thropp, the Governor to be of Munchkinland.

The next letter brought the news that the Governor, Frex's father, had died in a riding accident and Melena was now wife of the Governor of Munchkinland – a role she was not comfortable in but was certain it would improve – there were less letters after that, Melena's mother in law was a stern Gillikinese woman who insisted that Melena learn many new things.

She invited them to come and visit, to meet her husband, whenever they received the letter containing the invitation. Before they could leave Liana, after nursing several others through a relapse of the illness that killed so many five years before, suffered a relapse herself.

You won't be lonely for long, she told Kerrin as she lay dying. Melena is coming home soon, and bringing someone very special with her.

* * *

AN: Next chapter switches to the pov of Melena in Munchkinland. 


	2. Chapter 1

AN: At this point in the timeline Melena is not aware of the fact that her mother has died.

**Melena - Munchkinland - Part One **

_Dear Mother and Kerrin,_

_I'm writing to you from Hadrans Lake, a lovely place near a settlement in the northern hills of Munchkinland. Frex brought me here for a short holiday but he has, as happens far too often for my liking I must tell you, been called back to the Capital to attend to business that can neither wait nor be delegated or so he tells me._

_I don't know if you received my last letter yet but as I haven't heard from you I shall assume not. In that last letter I made very light of the problems I have with Frex's mother, in this I will more candid. Her constant harping on a variety of subjects quite drives me to madness at times. I think that is the true reason Frex brought me here, thought he insisted he too needed a short respite from his duties. You see I lost my temper rather spectacularly with her, you know what you say about red-haired girls Kerrin? I'm afraid I rather disgraced myself but the nerve of the woman!_

_In all the time I worked with you, Mother, I never heard you ask such personal questions of a woman who wanted to be a mother as this woman has asked of me recently!_

_When she told me I should consult the family doctor, and what does a man know of a woman's fertility I ask you! Well that was the last straw, as they say, I got to my feet and shouted at her. Pointing out the fact that we had been married less than a year, Frex is in excellent health and hardly in need of an heir at this point, and (just to make sure she understood my point) informed her that both of us were quite capable of producing a child **without** her advice!_

_I must tell you her face coloured so that she could have easily been one of us and didn't I feel better for getting those feelings out of me…until I realised Frex was in the room._

_He actually scolded me in front of his mother! Scolded me like a little one caught stealing sweets – I spent the night in one of the guest rooms. I imagine his mother had a lot of stored 'I told you so's to share with him._

_The next morning he told me that he'd arranged 'a short time away for the two of us'_

Melena laid the pen down for a moment to collect her thoughts.

_I cannot say that I no longer care for him, but I think that I now understand now what people in stories mean when they say their partner is not the person they fell in love with. Perhaps things will get better when he settles into being Governor (and his mother returns to Gillikin!)_

_If they do not...no it is too soon to say such things, I will speak more of it when I write again._

_My love with you both, as ever,_

_Melena._

Melena blew softly on the paper to dry it then carefully folded the letter and sealed it before placing it into a waterproof type of envelope to give to the messengers when she returned to the city. A glance outside showed her it was late afternoon, still a whole night to go before Frex returned, she sighed. Just when she thought she was doomed to spend the rest of the day embroidering or something equally pointless there was a knock on the door.

"Please come in," she called out politely, expecting a local from the nearby village to enter – they seemed to be under the impression that she could not manage to cook for herself and Frex.

"That's mighty kind of you, little lady," a tall man with dark hair, its colour impossible to tell thanks to the pouring rain outside. "I was sure I'd be spending the night in that storm there when I happened to see your lights shining out."

"You must have missed the village," she replied politely, doing a quick mental once over of her appearance and deciding that her spring dress, while not appropriate for formal occasions, was fine for greeting storm blown visitors. "I've been told that these spring storms bring up a mist sop think you could walk right down the main street and never see it if no one happened to make a noise as you did so. But listen to me babbling at you when you must be soaked to the bones, please sit down, would you like a blanket?"

"I'll just take this big jacket off, most of the rest of me is dry, but I would not say no to a warm drink if you had some to spare."

He had lovely dark brown eyes, Melena noticed, as she took his coat and hung it up over the back of the door – next to his bags.

"I'll put some water on to boil," she told him, standing up to do just that, not unaware of the way he was admiring her as she walked. "What brings you to these parts, if I may asks?"

"I'm travelling these parts, selling a few things as I go, see the parts of Oz I've never seen before."

"That does sound interesting, what do you sell?"

"At the moment I'm selling my Miracle Elixir, wonder curative for all sorts of dis-eases and gives you a nice warm feeling on a cold night."

"It sounds _wonderful_," replied Melena, genuinely impressed, she had never encountered a travelling salesmen in her life so it didn't occur to her that it was not as miraculous as he implied.

"Now there's a thought," declared the stranger, as if the thought had just occurred to him (and perhaps it had only just occurred). "Why drink tea when we can warm ourselves up with something spicier?"

"Why indeed?" replied Melena.

"You just have yourself a seat, my dark eyed beauty, and I'll fetch you a drink."

"I thank you for your compliment, sir, but I must point out in the name of honesty that your eyes are far darker than my own."

"That's as may be but you're the first dark eyed lady I've seen since I entered this land full of blue eyed lasses."

He walked across the room and brought back a small glass bottled, coloured green.

"Is the glass green or the drink?" she asked curiously as he uncorked it.

"The drink, but the glass is stained by it. Try it, won't you?"

A Gillikinese woman, or even a Munchkin, might have protested the lack of a glass but Melena felt no need for such niceties and simply tilted the bottle slightly above her mouth. She remembered from her training that a strange food should never be tasted first in large quantities and intended to place only a drop on her tongue but the liquid was less viscous than she thought so she ended up with a mouthful.

She noticed immediately that it didn't make her head spin or go fuzzy, like the first time she had tasted wine, instead the world seemed to come into sharper focus. Smiling the tall man took the bottle form her for a mouthful of his own.

"You like it?"

She knew it was really a statement, not a question, and smiled in response. He grinned, making him look much younger than the mid thirties she guessed his age to be, and passed the bottle back to her. A drop of the liquid, sliding from the outside of the bottle onto her skin, distracted her from another taste.

"What a fascinating colour," she remarked. She found that the colour was as indefinable as the taste has been when she took that first mouthful. "Not grass or _Ikari_ or moss or even emeralds. What would you call this colour, if you could not just call it green?"

"I usually just call it green," he replied hesitantly. "But when I think of it I think of everything that makes green – the _essence_ of green, if you will."

"The essence of green, I like it," she nodded dreamily and the man smiled.

"Another drink, my beauty," he offered. She smiled again and took another mouthful just as the storm started in earnest and the rain seemed to be almost shaking the cabin apart.

"I just adore storms, they don't have nearly enough of them here – compared to home."

"And where do you call home?"

"The South," she replied, in her mind dancing barefoot in the spring rainfall under the trees that needed the water to live. "The glorious, wondrous, _free_ South."

It took the man a moment to orient himself to Ozian geography and realise she meant Quadling country.

"And here I thought it was the lamplight that gave your hair that pretty red colour to it."

"Such compliments! I haven't had so many since the last time I was asked to dance."

"Is it a requirement, in your country, to compliment a lady while dancing?" he suggested smoothly.

"Not at all but we do so enjoy dancing."

"Well far be it for me to refuse to allow such a beauty the opportunity to do something she enjoys," he declared extravagantly as he leapt to his feet, very spry for a man his age as well. "Shall we dance, lovely lady?"

Melena carefully set the green bottle down on a table and nodded her agreement. The last time she referred to had been at her wedding, she hadn't since because Frex's mother had _insisted_ she needed lessons in 'proper' formal dances before she could be seen in public.

"There isn't much room though," she pointed out quietly as he took her hand to draw her near to him. "And no music either…but I wouldn't swap this for a room full of people."

"You prefer to be alone?"

"Well not _entirely _alone," she replied, putting her free hand on his shoulder. "Two seems to be just the right number for this room, don't you agree?"

He nodded agreement and counted out a one, two, three, four beat for them to begin dancing to.

"Do you invite every traveller who passes the door into your home?" he asked curiously, once they'd settled into a silent rhythm.

"Of course, my mother raised me to be hospitable. We're not usually inviting them in because of storms though, it rains most of the time at home."

"And do you dance with them all?" he responded mischievously.

"Certainly not," she replied, pretending outrage then lowering her eyes in mock shyness. "Only the handsome ones."

A short time later he halted the dance, explaining that it had gotten a bit warm in the room.

"I'll just take my waistcoat off, if you'll wait a moment."

"It is very warm in here," agreed Melena, who was feeling the effects of drinking the miracle elixir and suspected that the drink was mostly made of strong spirits. Her voice turned huskier as she suggested: "Why don't we go to the other room, it'll be cooler in there."

"An excellent idea, my beauty," he replied, knowing exactly what the next room was and what was being suggested.

* * *

The rain was gone by dawn the next morning, as was Melena's visitor. She stirred briefly as he kissed her cheek and closed the bedroom door behind him. She woke up properly when the midmorning light shone through the window of the room and smiled softly as she saw the little green bottle left on the other pillow, with a note next to it. 

"Here's to a wonderful memory, my dark eyed beauty," she read the note out softly. "I'll think of you often as I travel the lonely roads of Oz."

Smiling softly she folded up the note and placed it, with the bottle, in the bag of cosmetics that she never used but which Frex had insisted the maid pack into their luggage. She dressed hastily, not bothering to brush or tie her hair or even put shoes on, and raced outside to enjoy the morning. It had been far too long since she had done any of the things that made her happy as a young woman (and seemed to bother Frex far less **before** they were married).

Who could care about muddy feet and petticoats when the sky was so blue and the air was so fresh?

Who could care about Munchkin manners and Gillikinese stuffiness when the grass was so soft and obviously there only to be danced upon?

Who could care about jewels and cosmetics when there were obliging flowers to be picked and woven into a garland for her hair?

Who could care about the world beyond these hills when the sun was warm and the meadow just begging her to lie down and rest upon it?

The answer to all of those questions, as it turned out several hours later, was the Governor of Munchkinland - Frex Thropp.

"Melena!"

His loud outburst, shattering the peace of the meadow, startled her out of her sleep and she leapt to her feet.

"Frex!" she exclaimed in reply. "I am right here, must you speak so loudly."

"What are you doing?"

"Clearly something that is far more offensive to you than one would have presumed," replied Melena, speaking stiffly in response to his demanding tone. Frex sighed heavily he'd hurried back from his necessary trip to the capital to find half the village gossiping about seeing his wife 'dancing around half-dressed in the hills'

"I left you alone for _one night_!" snapped Frex. "And the first news I hear when I get back is that the villagers have seen you out here, unescorted, indulging in heathen behaviour!"

Melena fought back an angry retort and instead smiled at him sadly.

"You knew who I was when you asked me to marry you, Frex _yu adére_."

She could tell he didn't quite know how to react to her suddenly being what he considered reasonable.

"I thought I did," he replied quietly. "You've changed since then."

"No," disagreed Melena, with the same sad smile that made her look much older than she acted (by non Quadling standards anyway). "You're the one who changed, Frex, I am who I have always been."

She could see on his face that he wanted to deny it but, though she waited several minutes, he did not refute her statement.

"Come back inside please, Melena," he said wearily.

Irritation at being treated like a child (again!) warred with her wanting to compromise with him as she had grown up believing partners_should_.

"Because you're ashamed of me?" she said finally, deciding she had ignored this topic for far too long.

"What?" exclaimed Frex in what Melena thought could be genuine surprise. "Of course not!"

"That is not what the Dowager Lady Thropp has been telling me since we were married, or say rather since your father passed on for before then the only communication that she initiated between us was comments upon the weather."

Frex knew very well that his mother had been unhappy about, but grudgingly accepted, his marriage while his father had been enchanted by Melena and confided to Frex (after rather more wine than was good for him) that if he, Governor Anthar Thropp, was not a married man already his son would have some competition.

He shifted his weight uncomfortably as he remembered one particular day, during a holiday from University to introduce Melena to his parents, when his father had been openly flirting with Melena and his mother had made some comments – he didn't recall the specifics now - about how a Gillikinese or a Munchkin girl would have been much more modest in her response. He hadn't thought much of it at the time because his mother often criticised the 'outrageous behaviour of young women these days' but now he wondered if he should have listened more closely. The Unnamed God knew if wasn't that he didn't love her! Only that there always seemed to be a 'but…' whenever he thought that.

"I could never be ashamed of you, Melena," Frex assured her, after taking too long (in her opinion) to think about his answer. "But there are things you do that, that I would prefer you did not."

"And how is that different to being ashamed? You do not want me to do those things because it embarrasses you for people to see me behaving in the way of the people who raised me, as your reaction today has shown me _quite _clearly."

She took a deep breath then interrupted Frex before he could respond.

"I don't want to talk to you now, Frex. I am going for a walk so I can decide whether or not I even want to _live_ with you anymore."

"You can't just _leave_!"

"That's part of my point, Frex. I am not a helpless Gillikinese or sheltered Munchkin girl whose parents will disown her at the first hint she has not been a 'proper' wife, this marriage was not arranged by our parents and I know the Laws of Oz well enough to know that it can be undone with little difficulty."

"Melena," protested Frex. "I know things have been difficult for you, since my father died. But you must understand my mother is used to doing things a certain way and she's just trying to help you, like I'm sure she wishes she had someone to help her when my grandfather passed his duties onto my father."

"I'm going for a walk," repeated Melena, though there were a lot more things she could think of to say than that. "I will speak to you later."

To Frex's surprise, for he half expected her to vanish that afternoon, she did come back to the cabin. Melena informed him, in several uninterrupted sentences, that she understood the stresses he was under and had reviewed her impulsive decision to go home. It hurt him that she didn't think of where they lived together as her home but the sentence she concluded her speech with made him feel better because he felt the circumstances she described would never happen.

"I promise I will stay as long as our love for each other is stronger than the things that test it."

* * *

Quadling translation: 

_Yu adére _ my love


	3. Chapter 2

AN: Well it's been a little while (*coughlastupdate12-28-07) but here at last is chapter 2 :)

* * *

_Dear Mother and Kerrin,_

_It has been two months since my last letter to you. Frex and I are once again residing in the Governor's Residence of Munchkinland. Thankfully his mother has returned to Gillikin for 'the season' (this is a colloquial reference to the summer activities of the Gillikinese nobility)._

_I have not yet told her or Frex that the problem that concerned her in my last letter is no longer a problem. I am happy to tell you that you will soon be 'Grandmother Liana' and I think that I will name my daughter after Kerrin's mother. _

_I have a small concern, it relates to the peculiar attitudes of these Northerners…but I will not speak of it in writing in case there are those curious enough to read this letter as it makes its way to you._

_I will write again to let you know that my daughter is born, or that she has joined the Ancestors._

_Until then, my deepest love to you both,_

_Melena._

Melena sighed softly as she sealed the letter, it was unlikely her last one had even reached her family yet but writing down even a hint of her concerns made her feel better.

If only people up here weren't so peculiar about children and who their fathers are.

Melena knew with absolute certainty that not only was she pregnant but Frex was not the child's father.

_Ah well,_ she decided with a shrug. _I shall have seven months to think about it._

Frex was thrilled, two months later, when she told him the news though he immediately became far too over protective and refused to let her do anything he considered strenuous despite the fact she was a qualified midwife and quite capable of taking care of herself. It seemed to Melena that the only reason they didn't argue more during her pregnancy was that the family doctor, whom she despised, had warned Frex that she mustn't be allowed to become 'overexcited' – Melena spent most of the next three months in her garden.

When Melena was about seven months pregnant Frex's mother came to stay and 'help take care of things'. Between Frex and his mother Melena reluctantly gave in and agreed to stay inside until after the baby was born. Needless to say her mother-in-law's ideas about 'appropriate activities for pregnant women' soon drove her to the point where she claimed to be indisposed and remained in the room adjoining the nursery all day.

One day she happened to venture downstairs, in search of a book one of the maids had put back, and overhear her husband speaking to his mother.

"What do you think of this one?" she heard the dowager Lady Thropp ask. "Good references, good enough breeding, and she'll be ready just before?"

"I'm not sure we want a Munchkinlander," disagreed Frex. "I'd prefer Gillikinese if we can find one, or at least not entirely Munchkin."

"Good point, you want someone who'll be able to carry the child around for some time, what about the second one on the list?"

"I don't like the sound of the last comment in her ref…Melena, what are you doing down here?"

"One of the maids moved the book I was reading, I came to find it," explained Melena.

"You shouldn't be going up and down stairs in your condition!" protested the dowager. "My grandchild is due to be born in a matter of weeks!"

"Why didn't you send a maid to _find_ your book, Melena?" asked Frex wearily.

"I needed to stretch my legs. What were the two of you discussing when I came in?"

"Eavesdropping is a very unladylike habit," sniffed Lady Thropp.

"It's hardly eavesdropping, Madame, when you are sitting directly in front of the only door leading into this room."

"You might at least wear shoes so people can hear you coming, girl."

"Well I _would_," countered Melena. "But my feet have been so swollen the last few weeks that none of them **fit** and, as you so kindly pointed out, I have such large feet that it was already practically impossible to find shoes that fit in the first place!"

"We were discussing wet nurses," interjected Frex, concerned that one or both of them might become too overexcited if the 'conversation' continued.

"Wet nurses?" repeated Melena in puzzlement, she tried to recall if she'd ever heard the term before.

Lady Thropp just rolled her eyes at her daughter-in-law's ignorance so Frex took it upon himself to, quite haltingly, explain the term to his wife.

"Someone to feed the baby for you, once it is born."

"Why in Oz would I need someone else to feed my baby for me?" wondered Melena. "I'm hardly going to _die_ in childbirth, dear one, and if I did there's sure to be someone in the town who could look after the baby until you found someone."

"You're the _Governor's _wife!" snapped Lady Thropp, infuriated by yet another example of the girl's ignorance of proper society. "You can't be wasting your time nursing a child! Why I never nursed a single one of my children myself, as if I would even think of it in my position, and they all turned out just fine!"

"You are not seriously suggesting that I _abandon_ our child to the arms of a stranger just so I can attend parties and dinners are you?" said Melena, ignoring her mother-in-law so she could look directly at her husband.

"Melena…"

"You are!" she gasped, not sure if she was more horrified by the fact he was considering it or that he hadn't discussed it with her. "How dare you do this without even speaking to me about it!"

"It's what all noble Gillikinese families do!" he protested, trying to make her understand.

"Well I'm not Gillikinese and I won't let anyone take my baby away, not even you!"

"No one wants to take the baby _away_," said Frex reasonably. "Just to help you look after it."

"As far as I am concerned," stated Melena firmly. "Being a _real_ mother is a commitment to look after your child all of the time and if that means I miss a few dinners with people who don't care about my opinions anyway well then I will! But I will **not** let anyone else take such an important part of being a mother away from me and so help me, Frex Thropp, if you even _try_ I will leave and I will take the child with me!"

"There's no need to unduly distress yourself," said Lady Thropp in what she thought was a comforting tone. "These decisions can always be made after the child is born."

"There is no decision to be made, I…oh!"

"Melena? What's wrong?"

Frex leapt to his feet as Melena turned pale and clutched her stomach.

"The baby's coming!" gasped Melena.

"Now?" said Frex. "But it's not due yet!"

"Try telling her that!" suggested Melena sarcastically as she took a deep breath between contractions. "Don't panic, it's only just started, there's plenty of time. Help me upstairs."

"Upstairs?" repeated Frex. "But you're having a baby!"

"Not for a few hours yet, dearest," promised Melena. "And all of the baby things are in the nursery it will be much easier to take me up there than bring it all down here later."

Helplessly Frex looked to his mother in a silent appeal for advice and the older woman promptly took over.

"Frex go and send for the midwife while I help your wife upstairs."

"Are you sure it will be…"

"I have had seven children, young man, and I can assure you that none of them took less than five or six hours to arrive so your firstborn is not likely to make its appearance on the stairs!"

Mollified Frex hurried away, calling for servants, while Lady Thropp took Melena's arm and helped her up the stairs to her bedroom next to the nursery.

Once she was sure that Melena was in no danger of giving birth immediately Lady Thropp went back downstairs to check on her son. As soon as her mother-in-law was gone Melena got up from the bed, knowing there was no need for her to be there yet, and walked slowly around the room while counting the time between her contractions.

"You can't come in here, sir!" she heard a woman protesting followed by Frex insisting that he 'certainly could!' and pushing his way into the room.

"Melena, should you be standing up?" he exclaimed as soon as he got into the room.

"I'm fine, Frex," she assured him. "Women have babies every day you know!"

"This is Mistress Erlan," Frex introduced the woman who followed him into the room. "The midwife."

"How do you do, Mistress Erlan?" said Melena politely, too focused on what she was doing to bother protesting the need for _another_ midwife to be in the room.

"Fine, thank you, Lady Thropp. How are you feeling?"

"I think my husband was a little hasty in calling you, Mistress, the contractions are still a quarter hour apart and it's been such an easy pregnancy I doubt your assistance will be required."

"Is that so?" replied the midwife noncommittally. "I was under the impression that this was your first child."

"The first I've given birth to, certainly," agreed Melena. "But I've delivered, and assisted in the delivery of, several dozen babies. My mother is a midwife and she trained me in her craft."

"Oh I see, your mother-in-law didn't mention that when she arranged for me to attend you."

"No I don't suppose she…" Melena paused to wait for a contraction to pass. "Did but now you know so no harm done. Frex, will you please stop hovering?"

"No need for you to be here yet, sir," added the midwife. "The child is _at least_ six or seven hours away at the moment and I'm sure you have important business to attend to?"

"Well I…there are those letters I do need to respond to…but you will send someone to fetch me as soon as it is time?"

"Of course we will," Melena assured him. "But there's no point sitting around up here yet."

"As long as you're sure," he agreed. "I'll send one of the maids up in case you need anything."

"It's always best to get the men out of the room while the woman is trying to get the job done," quoted Melena with a smile. "That's what my mother always says. Of course back home she can make them go and do something useful outside."

"I make most of mine go and fetch water to boil," confided the midwife. "But one can hardly tell the _Governor_ to boil water, I'm sure!"

"Don't worry, he'll soon be so caught up in his paperwork that he'll hardly remember his wife is having a baby upstairs," Melena assured her, speaking from past experience in other circumstances.

Nine hours later the contractions weren't any closer together so Melena and the midwife began to discuss the possibility that this was what they called a false labour even though, as Melena remarked, it _felt_ like the real thing.

"She's not due for another three weeks," remarked Melena. "Maybe it was just this morning's…excitement that prompted this little practice run."

"'She'?" repeated the midwife. "Most mothers-to-be think of their unborn children as male."

"Not where I'm from," contradicted Melena. "And I'm not just thinking of my baby as female, I _know_ she is."

"Of course you do," agreed the midwife in a conciliatory tone. "Now what do you think, shall we stay up and see if anything happens or will you go to bed and see if that calms baby down?"

"Her name is Elphaba," Melena corrected her. "And I think I'll try to sleep for awhile since she can't make up her mind whether she wants to join us today or not."

"Elphaba, is that a Quadling name?"

"No, it's my mother's husband's mother's name," explained Melena as she got into bed. "The Gillikinese form of the Arjiki _Aelphaba_. If you ring for my maid she'll find you somewhere to rest, it may be best if you stay until the morning, just in case this baby decides that tonight's the night after all."

Sure enough Melena woke up only a few hours later when the contractions, which had almost stopped by the time she fell asleep, suddenly increased in frequency. Calmly she rang the bell that would summon her maid, sparing only a moment's thought for the fact the girl would be sleeping, and sent her to wake up the midwife who sent her on to wake up the Governor.

"Melena!"

Frex rushed over to the bed as soon as he entered the room and saw his wife half sitting and propped up by her pillows.

"Good evening, Frex," she said with a smile. "I believe we're really having a baby this time."

"I heard you scream, are you all right?"

"I'll be fine," she promised him. "It's just a bit painful and…"

She stopped speaking for the duration of another contraction and the midwife started bustling around laying towels around her.

"Nearly time," she said reassuringly. "Start pushing harder with the contractions now."

"I'm familiar with the process," snapped Melena irritably. Frex tried to be helpful by holding her hand, an action he regretted almost immediately as she – in the time honoured tradition of women in labour – just about crushed his fingers in her hand during her next contraction.

"I see the head," exclaimed the midwife, coaxing Melena along. "Just a little longer and you'll be able to see your baby."

Melena must have blacked out for just a moment because the next thing she heard was the midwife's scream.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's atrocious!" exclaimed the midwife.

"It's _obscene_!" shouted Frex.

"What's wrong?" repeated Melena loudly, trying to pull herself up so she could see the baby. "Where's my baby?"

"Take it away!" demanded Frex, running out of the room to go and find the one woman in Oz he trusted now.

"Give her to me!" demanded Melena before the midwife had taken two steps towards the door to the nursery. Helplessly the midwife looked from the bed to the door then reluctantly handed over the still unwashed child to its mother and bolting out of the room.

* * *

_**Eight months later:**_

The first eight months after Elphaba's birth had been very trying for Frex and Melena had done absolutely nothing to help, she didn't even seem to care that people had heard about the baby and were gossiping about it all over the country! He'd found a decent couple in Far Appleton willing to adopt the baby, despite her deformity, and Melena had refused to even listen to him when he suggested it be sent away.

Now his mother had come to stay and he hope that between the pair of them they would be able to talk some sense into Melena and make her realise that as his wife she had more important things to do than play nursemaid to a defective child. He shuddered involuntarily as he recalled one of the few times he had gone into the nursery, even though she'd only been six months old at the time the child had looked at him in such a knowing fashion that he quite forgot what he was saying and left the room very quickly.

Melena wasn't in the nursery, a fact that didn't disturb him greatly, she often went outside in the afternoon to sit in the sun – one of the few concessions he'd managed to wring from her was that she would use the walled 'family garden' where no outsiders and very few of the servants would see the child though he half suspected that she wasn't doing it for his benefit but so the child wouldn't hear the people talking about it.

Frowning and irritable now because Melena had not been in the garden he had his major-domo question all of the servants who lived in the house, which only confirmed that none of them had seen her since yesterday afternoon at the latest.

"She's probably just sulking because you asked me to come here," suggested his mother dismissively, when he joined her for dinner without having located his wife.

After dinner he had meetings and paperwork to take care of and so he didn't give anymore thought to where Melena could have gone until the next morning when his secretary, a young gentleman who lived in town and came to the manner every morning, handed him the day's correspondence, which contained an unmarked envelope.

"Why is this in here?" demanded Frex, his secretary normally went through his correspondence and removed the unimportant items.

"I'm sorry, sir, I must have missed it."

"Never mind, I'll see to it, thank you."

Afterwards Frex was very glad that the younger man had left before he opened the letter. His mother found him, some time later when he missed lunch, still siting in the position his secretary had left him in.

"Frex, your secretary tells me you won't let him in, whatever is the matter?"

Silently Frex handed her the letter that had been contained in the unmarked envelope and indicated that she should read it.

_Frex,_

_By the time you read this I will be halfway to Quadling Country. I am taking __my__ daughter home, to raise her with the help of my own mother. Attached to this letter I give you a formal statement of my agreement to the dissolution of our marriage._

_I am sorry you could not accept her and that our love could not survive this trial. Please know that I do not blame you and I will always think fondly of our earliest days together. I hope you will find someone who can be the wife you need and give you the children you want._

_My love always,_

_Melena._

"Well there'll be a scandal, of course," said his mother after she read the letter several times. "But all in all I think it's for the best."

"I can't help but wonder how it went so wrong," said Frex, despite the obvious lack of maternal sympathy. "Everything was so right when we were first together, I couldn't imagine **not** spending my life with her, but then Father and… the child. That letter makes it very clear that she was unhappy with our marriage over a year ago and while I knew there were things that upset her I didn't think it was as bad as that!"

"She was an impulsive girl," remarked his mother, shocking herself that she was about to say something almost nice about her former daughter-in-law. "It was probably just a spur of the moment rebellion that ended with an unexpected result."

"'Unexpected result'?" repeated Frex. "That is something of an understatement…but then you saw it when it was born so you know that."

"Is there anything at all I can do to help?"

"No…just tell the servants to leave me be until I ask for them. I need some time alone to adjust to this. We can come up with a suitable story later for now, if anyone bothers to ask, tell them that Melena took the baby to visit her family in Quadling country."

"As you wish."

Frex sat quietly for awhile after his mother left then picked up a fresh piece of paper to compose a letter in response to Melena's. He didn't **have** to, of course, but he felt that he should do something to properly close this chapter of his life and he knew that the sooner he sent it the sooner it would catch up with her.

_Melena,_

_I've been staring at this piece of paper for hours now and I still hardly know what to write. All I can say is that I have loved you, I __do__ love you, but I know you were right when you said you could not stay if our love was not stronger than that which tested it. I will marry again, my mother will insist upon it, but I will never feel for anyone as I felt for you in those days when it seemed as though we had discovered love._

_I see now that I never should have persuaded you to marry me but that is all in the past and while I will always remember it I wish you well for the future. I hope there will be someone who loves you without feeling the need to change who you are. I will __always__ be your friend, Melena Hadar, and if you ever have need of a friend I hope you will call on me._

_Yours,_

_Frex._

* * *

_**One week later; the border of Munchkinland and Quadling Country:**_

"Names?" asked the lone guard at the southern border of Munchkinland in the monotone of one repeating an endlessly dull routine.

"Melena Hadar and Elphaba Hadar."

"Reason for entering Quadling Country?"

"I'm going home."


	4. Chapter 3

**Twenty-one years later: **

About forty-five young people, ranging in age from seventeen to thirty, milled around in the courtyard of Shiz University where all new students had been instructed to wait. Elphaba Hadar leaned against the shadowy side of the building not wanting to draw attention to herself too soon, it had been bad enough being stared at on the carriage all the way from the Quadling city to Shiz.

_Still_, she thought as she quietly observed the other students. _It was hardly unexpected, Mother did warn me how people would be up here._

"Welcome, new students!" a Gillikinese woman, elaborately dressed and made up, appeared at the main door. "I am Madame Morrible, Headmistress here at Shiz University. Whether you are here to study law, logic, or Linguification, I know that I speak for my fellow faculty members when I say that they have nothing but the highest hopes for some of you."

The other students didn't seem to quite know what to do with this statement and waited quietly for Madame Morrible to continue. The Headmistress focused her attention on two young ladies standing together, a small curvaceous blonde standing in front of an enormous pile of luggage and a brunette girl with delicate features and a pretty smile.

"You must be Miss Upland and Miss Thropp, welcome to Shiz University ladies."

"Thank you Madame Morrible," said the brunette politely.

"We're just thrillified to be here, Madame," gushed the other girl. "As you know I, Miss Galinda Upland of the _Upper_ Uplands, have applied to your sorcery seminar. Indeed that is my sole purpose in attending Shiz...to study sorcery with you... Perhaps you recall my entrance essay..."Magic Wands: Need They Have A Point."

"Ah, yes, however, I do not teach my seminar every semester," explained Madame Morrible. "And I'm afraid that includes this semester. I hope you will still get the most out of your other classes. Now, regarding room assignments, I have a list here of all the rooms and who will be occupying them. The luggage of those of you who handed it in has already been taken in and for those of you who have luggage with you it will be brought up when you collect your room keys and copy of the student handbook. If those of you who are boarding or living in Shiz City would be so kind as to stand to one side I will give you your handbooks and you may spend some time exploring the campus if you wish. Tomorrow timetables will be handed out and may be discussed if you feel they need altering."

About fifteen of the students separated themselves from the main group to receive handbooks and disappear into the buildings.

"Now, some of you will be joining established rooming groups and others will be forming entirely new groups. As you will see in the guidelines swapping roommates is generally not allowed however if you genuinely can _not_ get along with your roommate and _can_ find someone willing to swap with you it may be allowed."

_Oh wonderful,_ thought Elphaba certain that whoever her roommates were they would be doing that before the first week was over. _Something to look forward to._

"Room twenty-four: Miss Rané Hadar Lejeune, and Misses Kara and Syra Batelle-L'ange," began Madame Morrible.

_Rané Hadar LeJeune_, repeated Elphaba silently. _I wonder if she's related to Kerrin's family in the north? Perhaps I'll ask her one day._

Madame Morrible continued to read through the room assignments until only Miss Upland, Miss Thropp, and Elphaba Hadar whom she hadn't seen yet were left in the courtyard. Elphaba was praying like mad that her name was going to be called out to join an existing room but somehow she doubted that her wish would be granted.

_It could be worse_, she told herself firmly. _At least you don't have to meet them in front of forty other people!_

"Miss Upland, I believe you and Miss Thropp are already acquainted and your roommate, Miss Hadar, should be around here somewhere..."

"I beg your pardon, Madame Morrible," said Elphaba, stepping out of the shadows. "I am Elphaba Liana Hadar."

All of three of them turned and stared at her in impolite shock, expecting to see a Quadling they were not prepared for her green skin.

"Nessarose Kaleria Torelle Thropp," said the first to recover, the daughter of the Governor of Munchkinland, "I'm delighted to meet you, Miss Hadar, we don't see many Quadlings in Munchkinland."

_Truly the Ancestors love irony_, thought Elphaba as she realised one of her roommates was the daughter of her mother's former husband.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, as well, Miss Thropp. It is very gracious of you and Miss Upland to share your room with me."

"It's a suite, actually," corrected Galinda. "The Rose Suite."

"Thank you for the correction, Miss Upland."

"I'm sure you can't wait to get to know each other, young ladies," said Morrible. "Here is a key each, and your student handbooks, the maid will show you the way to your rooms and a porter will bring your luggage up. Miss Hadar there is a package waiting for you in the suite, I believe it contains the rest of your uniforms."

"Thank you, Madame, I hope it was acceptable for me to have them sent here, it seemed a waste of time to have them sent home when I would be here so soon anyway."

"Yes, yes, quite," agreed Morrible. "Considering the date posted on your application I am quite surprised you received your acceptance in time to get here. Now off to your room, shoo, shoo."

A quiet, polite, maid led the three girls upstairs with many sidelong glances at Elphaba, who cheerfully ignored them to look around at the rooms they were passing. The Rose Suite, Miss Upland insisted on pronouncing it so and looked ready to pounce on Elphaba when she made the mistake of saying 'rose', was on the second floor down from the attic of the girls' boarding house and shared that floor with storage rooms.

"Here you go, Misses," said the maid, stopping outside a door painted in a tasteful pastel pink.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Upland, Miss Thropp, but is the colour of our door an indication of the decoration of the rest of the suite?"

Galinda mentally translated her words to "is it all pink?" and nodded.

"I'm told that the decoration of Shiz is done in the best taste," Nessarose assured her. "My mother, Lady Arlina Torelle Thropp, is quite particular about such things. She would never allow me to reside in vulgarly appointed rooms."

"Of course Miss Nessarose and I are quite used to luxurious surroundings," said Galinda, rather snobbishly. Elphaba noticed that Miss Nessarose looked a bit embarrassed by that statement and said nothing.

"Naturally," agreed Elphaba, deciding to show that she was not entirely ignorant of Northern families. "After all you are the niece of the Leader of Gillikin and Miss Thropp is the future Governor of Munchkinland. I should be quite honoured to be keeping such august company."

Galinda looked quite pleased by what she interpreted as a compliment but Elphaba noticed Nessarose looking at her with an expression that showed quite clearly the fact she suspected they were being made fun of, in a gentle laidback sort of way.

"Well," said Nessarose, holding up her key. "Let's not loiter in the hallway, let's see what our new home looks like."

"After you, Miss Nessarose," insisted Galinda. Nessarose nodded and unlocked the door, which led into the sitting room.

Once she recovered from the sight of so much _pink_ Elphaba saw that Nessarose was quite right when she said the rooms were tastefully decorated. None of the colours were too bold and there were not too many variations, all in all it was quite pretty – not to mention _enormous_, the sitting room alone was two thirds of the size of the home she shared with her family. She took a deep breath when she realised the other two girls were watching her and returned their stares steadily, not one to hesitate over such things she spoke first.

"It's lovely but I suppose I shouldn't let myself become too accustomed to it."

"Why, Miss Hadar," said Nessarose, genuinely confused. "Whatever do you mean?"

"I think," said Galinda, not worrying about making such a statement in front of her friend Nessa who already knew she did (on occasion) do so. "That Miss Hadar is jumping to conclusions, particularly the conclusion that we are going to ask Madame Morrible to remove her from our living arrangement."

"You can hardly blame me for making such a presumption," replied Elphaba reasonably. "Is it not true?"

"I've hardly had a minute to think of it," said Galinda honestly, another rare thing for her. "But we were willing to share our room with a Quadling girl, and you are a Quadling girl are you not?"

"By upbringing, if not entirely by blood," agreed Elphaba. "And I don't know why I don't look like one if that was your next question."

"Well I don't see why we shouldn't share with you, do you Miss Nessarose? As long as you don't have any strange Quadling habits we don't know about, like keeping frogs in the bathroom for example."

Elphaba stared at her wide-eyed for a moment then burst into laughter, repeating Galinda's last words between laughs and gasps.

"Frogs…in the…bathroom!"

Her laughter was a shock to the others, Elphaba had seemed very self-possessed up until this moment then Nessarose saw the joke – obviously neither Elphaba or anyone the green girl knew did such things and she found the stereotype amusing.

"Well," said Elphaba, recovering her composure. "As long as you don't have any funny Gillikinese habits that I have to watch out for I promise not to keep frogs in our bathroom. Miss Nessarose?"

"I certainly have no objections. I must say, Miss Hadar, you have much better manners than I expected of someone raised in the middle of nowhere."

"My _mother_ is 'Miss Hadar'," protested Elphaba. "And even then only on rare occasions. Would it be such a terrible thing for you to call me Elphaba? Or even Miss Elphaba if you must."

"It's not really proper," said Nessarose but, seeing how uncomfortable Elphaba looked and feeling sorry for her being so far from home, added. "But I suppose it wouldn't hurt to do so in our own suite."

"Your mother is 'Miss' Hadar," repeated Galinda, picking up the important point – at least it was important to her.

"What of it?" replied Elphaba, with a shrug. "Something else that isn't 'proper'?"

"Most people would not be so quick to admit that their mother didn't have a husband," explained Nessarose.

"She did _have_ one," replied Elphaba, deliberately misunderstanding and winking at Nessarose to make sure she knew it was deliberate. She found herself liking the younger girls already. "They didn't get along so she went home and took me with her."

"And as we have noticed," remarked Galinda, not maliciously. "Miss Elphaba is not like most people. I think living with you will be quite an adventure, I don't think I've ever known anyone quite like you."

"Well you must tell you if I drive you to distraction with my bad habits," said Elphaba. "Because I will surely do the same for both of you."

"I don't have any bad habits," retorted Galinda with a haughty toss of her hair, a statement which made Nessarose throw a cushion at her and call her a 'dreadful fibber' in a good natured way.

"According to my mother I am nothing but bad habits that will only get worse while I'm away," explained Nessarose. "Father was the one who wanted me to come to Shiz University, Mother thought I could learn well enough at home how to govern the country."

"My grandmother _insisted_ I apply to attend Shiz University this year rather than staying at the local University," Galinda joined in. "She so wanted me to study sorcery with Madame Morrible and I just know she'll criticise me when I tell her that Madame isn't running the seminar, she thinks I'm hopeless as it is."

"If she's anything like **my** grandmother you must be petrified to tell her," said Nessarose sympathetically.

_How sad,_ thought Elphaba. _To be frightened of your own relatives, I simply cannot imagine feeling that way about telling Grandfather anything._

It seemed strange to Elphaba that the two girls, obviously already friends before they came to Shiz, should feel so comfortable talking in front of her – she wasn't sure if she should be pleased or offended.

"If you please, Miss Upland, may I make a suggestion?"

"About what?" asked Galinda, feeling cranky now that she had to think about writing to her grandmother.

"About what to say to your esteemed Grandmother."

"It can't be any worse than what I already have to say," agreed Galinda grudgingly.

"According to their information booklet Shiz University has one of the best libraries in Oz."

"So?"

"If it were me I would tell my grandmother that even though Madame Morrible was not running her Sorcery seminar this semester I was still going to find some sorcery books from which to teach myself the basics, in order to prove to her that I was serious about studying Sorcery and that it was not just a girlish whim."

"Why, Miss Elphaba!" exclaimed Galinda, clapping her hands in excitement. "That's just the most brilliant idea! That's exactly what I'll do, do you really think they will have Sorcery books here?"

"If they don't," answered Nessarose. "You could always ask Madame Morrible to make a suggestion or lend you some."

"That's a wonderful idea as well! What a clever group of girls we are!"

Elphaba, deciding to be polite and not take offence at being referred to as a 'girl', smiled at both of them.

"Now that we've all shown off our brains perhaps we could look around the rest of the suite?"

"Isn't this living room _divine_?" declared Galinda who, much to Elphaba's carefully restrained amusement, seemed to be having raptures of delight over the furnishings. Admittedly it was quite lavish with a huge sofa, armchairs, a coffee table, and a pretty rug in front of the fireplace but not something to get excited about as far as she was concerned.

"It's beautiful!" agreed Nessarose, whose mother believed in spartan furnishings for the bedrooms of young ladies and refused to let her father 'spoil her' with pretty things. "Don't you think so, Miss Elphaba?"

"It's very…nice," agreed Elphaba, feeling slightly helpless in the face of their enthusiasm. Fortunately her lukewarm response revealed her as one of 'those people' who weren't interested in their surroundings as long as those surroundings didn't interfere with their interests.

"No need to look like you're about to be tortured, Miss Elphaba!" Nessarose assured her. "Miss Galinda and I will keep our enthusiasms to ourselves now."

"If you don't mind, Miss Nessarose, I think we can dispense with the titles in the privacy of our own suite – we have known each other for several months now."

"Very well, Galinda, I certainly don't mind if you don't."

Elphaba looked on, absolutely fascinated by the need for a conversation before one was allowed to use someone's first name without adding a title, this sort of thing made her very glad that she was studying Protocol at Shiz.

"The bedroom?" suggested Elphaba, when the other two seemed disinclined to leave the sitting room.

"Yes, of course," agreed Galinda, leading the way.

"Oh Nessarose," declared the blonde girl. "It's just superb!"

"That wardrobe is enormous!" Elphaba heard Nessarose exclaim and amused herself with the thought that, considering the size of Galinda's pile of luggage, it would need to be.

She suppressed a sigh and followed the girls inside, the room was set out simply: the 'enormous' wardrobe at one end, a dressing table in the other and three beds set with their headboards against the far wall.

"So how do we pick beds?" asked Elphaba politely. "Flip a coin, play 'paper, scissors, rock', a pillow fight?"

Nessarose and Galinda looked at her with equally confused expressions, people who had such an obvious sense of humour and actually displayed it were something they rarely encountered in the society circles they inhabited and Elphaba already seemed to have a disconcerting knack for making them want to laugh with her.

"Really, Miss Elphaba, I just don't know what to think about you," complained Galinda.

"Could you start by thinking to make-believe that you've known me long enough to call me Elphaba?"

"Very well, _Elphaba_, I believe you are making fun of us and you certainly don't know us well enough to do that!"

"Forgive me, _Galinda_, I was merely pointing out my ignorance with regards to the proper method of allocating beds when sharing a room with people you are not related to or well acquainted with."

"For a start," suggested Nessarose. "Let's not all say we have no preference, even though it's the _polite_ thing to do, because that will just make things take longer."

"I should probably take the middle bed," suggested Elphaba. "I get up early in the morning and it's closest to the door."

"Would you prefer to be nearest the wardrobe or the dressing table, Nessarose?" offered Galinda.

"Dressing table, if you please."

Just as the sleeping arrangements were finalised the porters bringing up the girls' luggage knocked on the door, followed by the maid assigned to the Rose Suite.

"Good day, Miss" said the maid as Galinda answered the door. "The porters are here with your luggage.

"Wonderful! Miss Nessarose, Miss Elphaba, our luggage is here."

"And a parcel for Miss Hadar," added the maid.

"That will be my uniforms," said Elphaba, taking the package. "Thank you, I'll hang these up while the porters bring your things in, Miss Galinda, Miss Nessarose."

"What about the rest of your things?"

Elphaba raised her eyebrows slightly as she looked at the pile of bags and suitcases.

"In there _somewhere_, no doubt, I'll come back for them."

It seemed like hours later before Galinda and Nessarose had the wardrobe sorted to their satisfaction and Elphaba was able to add the rest of her things, not that there were many of them. In fact Galinda and Nessarose were quite shocked by the fact she brought hardly any "normal" clothes with her.

"But why would I need to?" an extremely confused Elphaba demanded of Galinda. "I hardly expect to do anything other than studying, I only brought a dress with me because Mother insisted I might need it."

"**A** dress?" gasped Galinda. "As in only **one**?"

"That's the usual meaning of 'a', as I understand it," agreed Elphaba. "What would I do with dozens of dresses like you have anyway? Not that I could have so many dresses when I clash with nearly everything but you see my point."

"I suppose you haven't had much exposure to any kind of society," conceded Galinda. "What with your…"

"Country upbringing," offered Nessarose.

"Yes, that," continued Galinda. "So naturally you wouldn't know about all of the things there are to do outside of class – besides studying."

"I'm quite hopelessly ignorant," agreed Elphaba pleasantly.

"You are!" agreed Galinda. "In fact I think it is our _duty_, Nessarose, to take Elphaba under our wing and educate her in the things she won't learn in classes."

"You _really_ don't have to do that!" protested Elphaba.

"I know!" agreed Galinda cheerfully. "That's what makes me **so**nice! After all it is the duty of every noblewoman to help those less fortunate than herself and who isn't less fortunate than **me**?"

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," Nessarose assured her, seeing that Galinda's enthusiasm was making Elphaba nervous.

"Of course not!" chirped Galinda. "I was just offering!"

"And it was very good of you to make the offer, Galinda, thank you."

"I'm absolutely famished!" declared Galinda, flitting onto the next topic that popped into her head. "Who wants dinner?"

"I promised to write to my mother as soon as I got here," said Elphaba, jumping on the first excuse that came to mind. She was hungry but the idea of eating in front of all of those people on her first day made her feel ill.

"I'll come with you," said Nessarose. "Do we need to change for dinner?"

"Only for formal dinners," replied Galinda, the dress requirements were the only thing she had spent a great deal of time learning. "And they have to give us at least one week's warning before those."

Nessarose and Galinda left the room chattering about the prospect of formal dinners and what they might wear to them.

_Mother forgot to warn me about how much people __**talk**__ up here_ was Elphaba's first thought after the two girls had left and the room was suddenly much quieter.

It occurred to her that she probably should write to her mother, even though Melena was unlikely to receive the letter for several weeks. It had never been a question of 'letting' her go to University in Gillikin but Elphaba had promised to write every week before her mother felt comfortable with the idea, Melena herself had been quite ready to agree that this was a hypocritical attitude for a woman who had done more or less the same thing when she was younger than Elphaba was now.

_Dear Mother, Ilerahn, and Kerrin,_

_I hope you are well and the twins too. I have arrived at Shiz University and find myself sharing a room with two young ladies, whom I gather volunteered at the request of the Headmistress. Miss Galinda Upland, of the Upper Uplands, and Miss Nessarose Thropp._

_I can imagine your surprise at the second, Mother. They both seem like amiable young women, if somewhat too formal and enthusiastic about certain subjects than me. Neither of them seem inclined to request a change of roommates so it seems I shall be spending my first year here at Shiz in the 'Rose Suite' – do note the capitals because Miss Galinda got a look in her eye that promised dire consequences if I referred to it as the 'rose suite' again. _

_Other than that there isn't much to speak of regarding my journey and arrival, as Mother told me the people up her talk and stare a lot but no more than I expected from the brief contacts I've had with Northerners in the past. _

_I did find it interesting that the Headmistress is also a sometime teacher of Sorcery yet refused to teach Miss Galinda based solely on a __written__ application. I believe I endeared myself to her a little when suggesting that she could study the theory of the subject independently and approach Madame Morrible again next semester. This letter has taken longer to write that it might appear and I hear my roommates returning from dinner._

_I'll write again soon._

_Elphaba._


End file.
